Luca, true to his word, showers quickly, continuing to tell me about his morning and how his uncle kicked the crap out of him, not impressed at all by anything that he learned at the Academy and taking the day to drill back into him all of his old techniques.
“I mean,” Luca says, turning off the shower. “He’s not wrong – I’ve got to remember the basics that I’ve had drilled into me for years, or else I’ll get sloppy. But I did learn some stuff at the Academy, and I’m a little frustrated that he won’t even let me think of incorporating it into any of my strategy.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, completely distracted, sitting prim and straight on the little bench before Luca’s small set of lockers, my hands on my knees, staring at the flimsy curtain, thinking hard about what’s behind it.
I remember, suddenly, the first time that I saw Luca naked – in the locker room, while I was waiting to take my own shower, and I had gone completely still, just…staring at him. Watching the water slip down his skin, over his muscles. Watched him tilt his head back and fill his mouth with it, and then let it spill out over his lips…
God, god.
Suddenly all I want to do is leap forward and rip the curtain back, and grab him –
But Luca beats me to it.
I jump as he rips the curtain back, and my eyes go wide because…
God damn it – crap – crap but he’s gorgeous.
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